Just Like In The Movies
by kalebxdd
Summary: Vegeta and Bulma struggle for dominance in their relationship all the time, but tonight he's just going to have to sit there and see why Bulma is the one in charge. RATED M FOR A REASON.


**Well hello! It's been ages since I wrote one of these, so don't let me hold you up any longer. Smuttiness awaits :)**

**Now read, review and enjoy!**

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"So this goes here... And then we do this with the doohickey..."

Bulma sighed and wiped her brow with her lower arm. Sweat was dripping behind her welding mask and into her eyes. No biggie, she thought she needed a break from work anyway.

She took the welding mask off and threw it across her workbench, making sure that she didn't hit the project she was currently working on. It was a wristwatch of which she hoped that it would make storage capsules obsolete. She didn't see it happening any time in the near future, but hey, it was nice to have dreams.

Out of habit she retrieved her packet of cigarettes and lit one of the cancerous sticks. The nicotine that seeped into her bloodstream was so amazing that she just had to glance at the clock; had it been that long since she had had her last puff? It was well past eleven at night, which would mean that she had been working without stopping for about six hours. No wonder that the cigarette made her feel all woozy.

She just sat there for a while, dirtying her lungs and admiring the many pieces of work around her that had yet to be finished. Her estimate was that she could finish it all before the end of the year, but she was far too self-aware for that. She would likely start something new before the old was finished and next year all of the clutter would have doubled in size and proportion. Still. it didn't stop her from tinkering and toying with all of the equipment. Working the mechanics of genius had something special that she couldn't really put her finger on. All she knew was that it brought her immense satisfaction.

Bulma stumped out her cigarette and depleted the last remaining smoke from her lungs. She cleared away the ashtray and made sure that her most important files were put away; she wouldn't be able to find a single one of them later on if she didn't. She shrugged off her lab coat and hung it by the hook on the door as she exited her laboratory.

Walking through her mansion of a house was always like an adventure, only not of the good kind. Whenever she roamed these halls all that Bulma could see were the stains in the high carpet or the smudged lines of permanent marker on the wallpaper. She had considered firing the cleaning crew on more than one occasion, but the goodness in her heart wouldn't allow it. Most of them were college students trying to scramble a meager pay together so they could keep themselves educated. If there was one thing Bulma found important it was education. If those poor bastards didn't get the training and exercise they needed they might end up as dumb as Goku.

On the second floor, down the hall, behind the second door to the right was her son's room. Trunks was only four years old so he wasn't _that_ much of a bother on her; Bulma dreaded the days to come when he would be in his teens and battling puberty. Being stubborn herself she hated nothing more than someone giving her the same treatment. Lucky for her that would still take a few years and now she still had a chance to baby Trunks around. Whether he liked that or not.

Trunks had decorated the door to his room with those horrifying wooden letters you could buy at every single store in existence. He had asked to put them up himself but his mother wasn't too keen on that. Knowing him he wouldn't be able to control his strength and he would either knock the door straight out of the window on the other end of the room or he would let the hammer slip and kill whoever happened to pass by. No, Mommy would do this on her own. Too bad she wasn't as adept with a hammer as she was with a welder.

She knocked three times and waited. Her reply came in the form of a shrill squeak she knew to mean 'yes'. Then she went inside. Trunks was sitting on his bed, his legs crossed beneath him. A controller was sitting in his lap. He had been playing some game that Bulma had bought him last weekend to buy his silence towards Vegeta, after she had eaten an entire apple pie. She just knew that he would give her flack for it and she just wasn't up for that, no matter how... heated the argument might get. Sometimes that husband of hers just needed a good high-five. In the face. With a chair.

Would she call this good parenting? Absolutely not. The game she had bought Trunks was known as one of the most violent videogames on the planet -this being the obvious reason that the little bugger wanted to have it in the first place- and was shooed by parents all around the globe. A lady in the store had seen Trunks's ecstatic reaction when Bulma had put the game in her shopping cart, and this had resulted in a rant of epic proportions. The woman had screamed and fumed, had accused Bulma of being irresponsible, the whole shebang. It wasn't until the lady was kind enough to suggest a good adoption agency that Bulma had wailed on her. Bitch never saw it coming. Hope you enjoy eating through a straw.

And of course, Trunks had laughed and cheered through it all. That kid really was too good for her sometimes. It pained her heart to know that the worst influence on him wasn't some video game where you shot hookers for money. No, what was possibly the biggest corruption on her boy was that man that he referred to as 'Dad'.

Bulma had pleaded Vegeta time and time again to hold off with Trunks's training. She had understood that she couldn't keep Trunks away from fighting forever, but after she had given birth to him and had nursed him she understood Chi-Chi's stance on the matter. For years she had told her best friend to man up, that Gohan would be able to fend for himself with the strength that he had. And now Trunks was about the same age as Gohan was when he had been thrown in front of the lions. The mother in her wouldn't allow her baby boy to face something so dangerous. It really was a pity that when it came to protecting the galaxy being a mother had very little to do with it.

"What's the matter, Mom?" Trunks sprung her from her musings.

"Well, Honey," Bulma cooed. She always delivered bad news like this by starting off with sweet words. Trunks was catching on to this, though, judging from the weary glance that he gave his other. "It's time for bed now."

The reaction was just the one she had been expecting. "Aw, c'mon Mom, I've only got three more levels to go until I beat the game!"

"That's great and all, but it's past eleven already. You should've been asleep a long time ago."

"But it's Saturday!" Trunks protested. "I can always stay up late on Saturdays!"

"Right you are," Bulma admitted. "But we have a big day tomorrow, remember? It's Goten's birthday."

Trunks rolled his eyes. He had no doubt gotten his sassiness from her. "Fine." He crossed his arms and huffed. "But no sweet dreams."

Bulma giggled at that. She marched over to her son at took his controller away, placing it on the dresser his TV stood on. She turned off the television and sat on the edge of Trunks's bed. She pulled up the covers to his chin. Trunks sank back into the mattress as if on cue. Bulma leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead after wiping away the lilac strands.

"Sleep tight, sweetie." she kissed his forehead again. "Now you be all fresh and chipper in the morning. It won't be fun for Goten if his best friend is being sour all day."

Trunks grumbled for a bit but seemed to agree. "I guess you're right. Can we leave the nightlight on, though?"

"Sure thing," Bulma said. She plugged the teddy bear-shaped light into its socket. "We wouldn't want any scary men to get into your room tonight, don't we? Good thing Daddies are afraid of nightlights."

Trunks giggled and for an instant her heart melted. "Goodnight Mommy."

"Goodnight, baby," Bulma whispered. Then she closed the door behind her.

Bulma heaved a sigh and walked back. There were times where she wished she hadn't gone after her father. These thoughts normally formed in her mind when she had just spent some time with Trunks. All of the work that kept piling up on her made it difficult to do her duty as a mother. It took away chances to read Trunks a bedtime story or make him his own breakfast instead of making the help do it. And it wasn't like she was all that adamant on having Vegeta fill in the time she was missing out on. Since the Saiyan Prince considered only beating his child to a bloody pulp as respectable father-son time, Bulma wasn't all that keen on those two being around each other.

She glanced at her own watch. It was almost eleven thirty. Perhaps she could go into her lab and do some more work. It would save her some stress the coming day. Resigned to her fate, Bulma started for the lab again. She passed some of the cleaning crew on her way there and graced all of them with her kindest smile. She hoped that it would send them a message; _Be really damn lucky that you're broke, or else you would've been out on your ass by now. _

Bulma wanted to cry the second she turned on the lights in her laboratory. It had not seemed like a whole lot when she had left this place fifteen minutes ago, but what greeted her now was like an endless pile of crap she still had to deal with. Best she just find the smallest and least annoying turd to start with.

This turd in particular was a design for a new line of jetcopters. Bulma laid out the blueprints to it on her workbench, weighing it down with some of her calculating equipment to make sure it didn't roll up on itself. She lit a cigarette and flicked on the light above her so that she could see every little detail or miniscule note on the side. She kept the death stick in the corner of her mouth as she worked, one eye closed against the smoke that tried to assault her retinae.

The clock ticked by and Bulma did her work as the proper scientist that she was. In a small space of time she managed to finish the work on two models of jetcopters, as well as toy some more with the watch she was trying to invent. She was about to give up when the door to her laboratory opened.

Vegeta came strolling in, his face bearing its usual sour expression. He marched across the length of the room as if he owned it, stopping in front of his wife and staring at her as if he expected her to do whatever was on his mind. Bulma, however, decided to wait this one out. She was well aware that it would piss Vegeta off to no end if she didn't ask what was bothering him and that was just what she was going for. She stood there with her arms crossed, saying nothing.

Vegeta answered this with a glare that could cut through bone. Bulma had long since grown accustomed to it, so it didn't bother her. She just smirked and waited for the tirade to come.

"Woman," he eventually barked. Oh, how she loved it when he pulled out the pet names. He could be such an affectionate man. "What is the meaning of this?" Bulma hadn't noticed that Vegeta kept one hand behind his back. He showed her what he had been holding.

They were sneakers.

"Well, silly," Bulma put on her most sugar-coated voice. "Those are shoes. They go on your feet."

"I know that!" Vegeta growled. "The problem is the state that they're in! I can't be expected to train with these."

Bulma looked at the sneaker. The soles were falling apart and the laces were chewed up. Vegeta was right. Training in those shoes would be very irresponsible. "Right. And your point is?"

Vegeta looked as if he was ready to commit murder. "Don't you get it, woman? I want these replaced immediately!"

"Well the sneaker store is just down the block from here," Bulma quipped. "Although it's closed now, so you'll just have to wait until morning to get them."

"Do you honestly expect me to mingle with the public like some kind of weakling? I am the Prince of all Saiyans! That is work of the servants."

Bulma narrowed her eyes and she could see Vegeta shrink back. Great, she still had her game on. "Well you seem to forget that I am your wife, not your servant. So if you need someone to boss around that desperately I suggest you go to the North Pole. Maybe the penguins will want to respect your authority."

"This is an outrage!" Vegeta cried. "I demand that I can begin training straight away."

"No, Vegeta," Bulma turned back to her desk and left her seething husband be. "I'm not your little slave and I never will be. I can repair electronic stuff for you no problem, but you better learn to deal with things yourself. Now please go away, I have work to do."

She could hear Vegeta curse under his breath and toss the sneakers on the floor. She just sighed in response and shook her head. She wasn't in the mood for these kinds of discussions right now. If she got pissed at Vegeta now she would end up going to bed angry and there was nothing she hated more than that.

Vegeta came to stand behind her. He was determined not to give up on this discussion, it seemed. He leaned over and reached for the watch on Bulma's workbench, but she was quick enough to slap his hand away.

"Can't you go bother someone else?" She hissed at him.

"I would, but the sneaker store is closed during the evening." He was mocking her and doing a damn fine job of it.

"Ugh," Bulma huffed. "How can I be expected to make genius inventions if my husband won't even leave me alone to do my work?"

Vegeta scoffed. "Hmph, genius... Some people may find those things you throw together convenient, but aside from the Gravity Room none of the stuff you make is handy to me. Perhaps you should think of your family for a change and invent something that's useful for all of us."

Bulma was getting fed up with this nonsense. "Okay Vegeta, so you want to see something convenient?"

"Surprise me."

A smirk grew on her face. "Fine, but you asked for it." Bulma pulled open the drawer in her workbench and pulled something out of it. It resembled one of those ballpoint pens for children who are learning to write, with a bulbous tip. Bulma turned around and prodded the object into Vegeta's shoulder.

Vegeta went as limp as a rag doll. He fell to his knees and sat there watching his wife, the shock evident on his face. Bulma's smirk grew wider in her triumph. "Surprised enough?"

Vegeta's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"Did you honestly think I only make crap in this place?" Bulma questioned. "Back when you just started living here you were an even bigger prick than you are now. I was scared that you might try something on me so I needed something to defend myself with, should the need arise."

Her husband blinked at her in stupefaction. "What?! Are you telling me that a weakling like yourself has invented something this powerful? What the hell even is that thing?" He nodded his head to the pen-like object.

"This..." Bulma waved it before Vegeta's eyes. "is a little device that can cancel out your flow of Ki for a short amount of time." She smiled, proud of herself.

"How is that even possible?"

Bulma could almost feel herself glowing; these were the times that her own genius was confirmed and when it became hard to not pat herself on the back. "Back when I learned what Ki even was I studied it for as much as possible. I learned that Ki has several points in the body where the concentration is highest, namely in the body's joints. So, when you can disrupt that flow of energy you can stop the flow of Ki altogether. And this little thing here is capable of doing just that."

Vegeta could only stare at her for a second or two. Then his lips began to form words. "You evil, evil shrew. That's bloody genius!"

Bulma allowed the tinge of red to creep over her cheeks; compliments from Vegeta were rarer than solar eclipses. She twirled her Ki Blocker through her fingers and watched her husband, curious to see what he would do next.

"Did I ever tell you..." Vegeta let his voice trail off, just leave her hanging. "That you could've looked worse in that lab coat of yours?"

"No you didn't," Bulma replied. "But you didn't have to. It's common knowledge." She twirled around on her heels and let the coat flourish around her.

"Yeah, you remind me of those women in those movies on the nine hundred channels."

Bulma wasn't sure if she should be pleased or offended, so she chose to go with amused. "You mean the porno channels? That's what I remind you of?"

"Well maybe not all the time, but you are a lot less despicable out of clothes than you are in them."

Bulma had to laugh at that. She sank through her knees. "Oh, Veggie, my dear," she prodded Vegeta with the Ki Blocker when he tried to get up, probably to show her just how much he loved that nickname. "Those babes on the porno channels have got nothing on me."

"In what regard?" Vegeta had his eyebrows raised and a playful smirk was tugging at his lips. Bulma couldn't help but grin either; both of them knew which road they were heading down. It was only a matter of who would be behind the wheel tonight. Bulma had no intentions of giving up that ambition.

"Well..." Bulma let her voice falter for a bit to raise anticipation. She brought her face forward and ever so softly pressed her lips against Vegeta's. "For one, I actually know how to keep my man happy." Another kiss. "Secondly, I know what my man likes." She kissed him again, this time with force. When they broke apart his face was flushed and his eyes were distant, much to Bulma's approval. "Finally, no one can make you scream like I do."

Vegeta stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say. The Prince was much more a man of action in this type of situation and a normal plan of action would consist of him grabbing Bulma, throwing her across the workbench and fucking her until she woke up the whole house with her screaming. It wouldn't be the first time that they found some of the cleaning crew standing with their ears pressed against the door. Too bad for Vegeta that he was now incapable of using his arms.

Bulma raised herself up and made sure to do this as slow as she could, giving Vegeta a good glance at her long and feminine legs. Just for good measure she trailed her fingers from her ankle to her knee and over her thigh, stopping where the fabric of her skirt began. She could hear Vegeta draw in his breath and this pleased her to no end.

"So, Vegeta," Bulma said, a smile playing her lips. "If you behave just right you might get to see why no porn star can ever be as hot as I am."

Vegeta returned the smirk she gave him. "And what would you have me do?" He asked, feigning the interest of a little schoolboy.

Bulma retrieved a chair from beside her workbench. She never used it before, but suddenly she had found a purpose for it. She shoved it over to Vegeta. "Sit." Bulma demanded.

"And how would you suggest I do that?" Vegeta asked. "As you may have noticed, my arms aren't working at the moment."

"Figure something out."

Vegeta grumbled under his breath. With some struggling he managed to find his footing. He dropped himself down in the chair and sat there, waiting while Bulma rummaged through her drawer on the lookout for the next surprise.

The bluenette found what she was looking for and turned to her husband. She grinned at him when she walked over, swaying her hips with every step and showing off her elegance. She halted in front of him and towered over him. She closed the distance between them by placing her hands on his knees for support.

"Are you ready?" Bulma asked before crushing her lips on Vegeta's. Her mind went blank for a few seconds as ecstasy rushed through her, every little brush against her lips sending her into a higher state of mind. She couldn't help but moan just a little bit when she noticed Vegeta's eagerness. She wanted to rush it too, she wanted to tear off every bit of clothing off the both of them and just fuck Vegetas brains out, but she wouldn't give into it. Not tonight. Right now she would show Vegeta who was the boss.

Vegeta looked disappointed when she broke free from the kiss. Bulma could only hold silent for a little bit, feeling too flustered to think, let alone act. One of the best things about Vegeta was his sense of passion; every kiss felt like the first and every caress was like heaven all over again.

Bulma found herself again and moved into Vegeta's lap, straddling his hips. She could feel something rigid beneath her, making her giggle. Vegeta was already getting excited. If only he knew what she had in store for him. They might not make it past taking off her bra if he did.

She kissed him again, this time more ferocious than the one before. She could feel him fighting for dominance but she would not allow it. She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, earning her a little pained gasp. She pressed her face against his again, toying with hair and laying knots in the strands.

She gave him an open invitation by opening her mouth. Good thing that Vegeta was no dullard. He took the hint and kissed her, slipping his tongue out to meet hers. Bulma moaned for real this time when his wet muscle found hers. He was aggressive in his style, exploring every inch that her mouth had to offer. Their tongues clashed and clashed again, a battle of dominance ensuing that raised the temperature of their bodies to enormous heights.

Bulma was just in time with noticing that Vegeta was gaining his strength back. She could feel his hands moving over her backside, squeezing ever so lightly. She chuckled against his lips, amused. A single prod of the Ki Blocker was enough to render his efforts useless.

"Damn woman..." Vegeta breathed at her when she released the kiss. "Why must you always torture me like this? Am I not allowed to touch you?"

"Oh, sweetie," Bulma laughed. "It wouldn't be fun if I couldn't torture you a little bit. And to answer your second question, no, you are not allowed to touch me."

Vegeta wasn't catching on. "Then what do you suppose we do now?"

Bulma didn't answer, but rather just smirked. She reached to Vegeta's sides and found his still limp arms. She pushed them back behind the backrest of the chair. Then she reached into her lab coat and retrieved the second surprise.

It was a pair of what seemed to be handcuffs at first glance. She clasped them on to Vegeta's wrists, making sure that there would be no way that he could free himself from this new situation. He looked up at her as she sat in his lap, the confusion etched into his features.

"What are you planning on?" he demanded of her. Vegeta threw his body forward in a vain attempt to struggle free. When this didn't work the confusion turned into shock. He gave it another shot, but he was unable to lift his butt from the surface of the chair.

Bulma smiled. Her plan was coming to fruition. "Take it easy, Vegeta, you'll only hurt yourself if you don't." She moved away from his lap and went to stand before him. She reached for her hair and undid the band that kept it together, allowing each and every strand to cascade down onto her shoulders.

"You better untie me right here and now if I were you." Vegeta wasn't enjoying this as much as she was. "I can feel my strength coming back to me," he added as a warning.

"It won't do you any good," Bulma said, turning her back on him. She shrugged off her lab coat and let it fall around her ankles. "Go ahead, just give it a try."

Vegeta strained himself and tried to pull his wrists apart. The handcuffs stayed in place. "What?" Vegeta said, dumbfounded. "How is this even possible?"

"Oh sweetie," Bulma looked over her shoulder. "Did you really think that I only made one weapon against you? I thought you knew me better than that." She walked over to her working bench and opened yet another one of the drawers, pulling from it a silk cloth she would normally use to polish delicate surfaces. It did have other purposes, though.

"So what kind of torture device is this supposed to be?" Vegeta asked. He struggled against the cuffs once more but failed. "Clearly you're not fond of the idea of me leaving this chair."

"Right you are," Bulma quipped. "These handcuffs have the exact same purpose as the Ki Blocker. It can cancel out your flow of Ki and it can keep you contained for as long as I want to. As long as you have those on you aren't going anywhere."

"And you were planning on releasing me when?"

A smirk cracked across her face. "When I'm done fucking your brains out, that's when."

Vegeta wanted to reply to that, but didn't. Maybe he had no proper words to form a rebuttal or perhaps whatever he had thought of would be too rude to speak out loud. Either way he held his tongue. Bulma leaned over, her hands on his knees.

"Think you can handle that, Prince?" She then closed the gap between them, kissing Vegeta with all the ferocity she could find within herself. He sucked in his breath when she did so, shocked at her sudden domineering attitude. Bulma used this to her advantage and forced her tongue into his mouth. The taste of him was heaven.

Her fingers could no longer contain themselves. The moved along the lines of his jaw and across his neck, starting their journey over the rock solid surface that was his chest. When she felt the sturdiness of his pecks below her fingertips she was overcome by a sudden desire, a burning ache to tear off his shirt and all the other clothes on him too. But she couldn't. She had to drag this out. She had to make him wait for her until he could do nothing but beg. How she loved to see him squirm.

She released her grip on him and drew back only an inch, staying out of range from his advances. Her breathing was ragged, much like his. She smiled at him while she played with the collar of his white button-down shirt. No words were spoken between them. It wasn't necessary.

Bulma went in for another kiss, this time forcing some of Vegeta's hair into her fist. She pulled his head back and he groaned against her lips. The sound of it set her aflame and made her want to jump him again, but she settled with the deepening of the kiss, softly sucking on her husband's tongue and drawing the smallest of shivers from him. She could feel the tides shifting her way. She was gaining more and more control.

Her fingers were nimble and undid the buttons of Vegeta's shirt in a flash. His shirt fell open to the sides and revealed the body of an Adonis. Bulma sucked in her breath, for the briefest of moments taken aback by seeing such perfection. Every line, every crevice, all of them seemed to be chiseled from the finest marble. His skin shone from underneath a thin sheen of sweat, accentuating the godliness before her eyes even more.

Bulma was unable to take anything more than that. She threw herself into Vegeta's lap and kissed him, the ecstasy coursing through her, starting at the base of her back and shooting into her brains like an electrical current. A moan escaped and she heard Vegeta chuckle. Her hands roamed over his chest, his skin hot underneath her fingertips like glowing coals. She locked her hips against his and grinded her pelvis against his groin. This time it was he who gave his pleasure voice, the sound of it reverberating off the walls and ceiling.

Bulma took her hands away from her husband's body. Instead they went to the spaghetti straps of her top, sliding the cloth from her shoulders and pulling it over her head. Her heavy breasts swung lightly when they were freed from their polyester prison, but the fleshy mounds had withstood the test of time and bounced back into their original perky shape. Bulma could see Vegeta eye them, their every little movement hypnotizing him. He jerked against his restraints in an effort to grope her and claim her as his own, but she shackles won't allow it and kept him in place.

To compensate Vegeta planted his lips on his wife's neck, drawing a quiver out of her that sparked a fire in his dark eyes, a little glint of sudden glee. He pecked her skin again and again, trailing the gentlest of kisses along her neck and collarbone. Bulma pressed against him, her bosom firmly against his own chest. He could move his head as far as the dip between her breasts but no further. He groaned in annoyance, which was only amplified by the amused giggles coming from the beautiful woman in his lap.

"You think this is funny, don't you?" He tried to be stern about it, she saw.

"Of course I do," Bulma said, laughing. "I've got my super-powered husband all tied up like a little bitch, what's not funny about that?"

"Can you at least throw me a bone?" Vegeta was almost whining now. "Why must you make life so hard on me, woman?"

Bulma sighed a little and could not help but smile. "Well, you have been acting like a good boy so far..." she let her voice trail for an instant to let Vegeta's anticipation rise. Her fingers moved to her back and unclasped her bra, the garment tumbling down to the floor, her attention already elsewhere.

Once again she was almost convinced that her breasts had hypnotic powers. The smallest of gasps escaped Vegeta, boosting Bulma's confidence tenfold. She brought her body forward, forcing her chest into her husband's face. He was unprepared and she could hear his muffled protests, but those soon disappeared as he started kissing her, from her collarbone down onto the valley of her chest. Granting him permission, Bulma could not help sounds of pleasure leaving her throat. He pressed pecks down on both of her breasts, managing to set her aflame even without the use of his hands.

Vegeta reached her nipples and stared at them for a moment, a confident grin twitching at his lips. He looked up at her and darkness met the light, their stares matching the other's intensity. He never broke eye contact when he sank his teeth down into her left nipple, putting on just enough pressure to actually make it hurt.

Bulma let out a yelp and wanted to reprimand Vegeta, but he wouldn't let her. Before she even had the time to register the aching throb that passed through her he had already kissed her again, switching from rough to tender like the flick of a switch. His rough tongue scraped against her areola, sending shivers down her spine. She arched her back and nearly suffocated him, but that wouldn't stop him.

Alternating between her breasts, Vegeta had found the perfect balance between dominance and submissiveness. He would kiss her one time, then bite down into her peachy skin the second. Bulma was new to the sensation and despite the dull ache it flooded her mind and cut off her sense of proper reasoning. She was making noises, she presumed, but she was too spaced out to hear then. Pleasure shocked through her again when Vegeta flicked at her nipples with his tongue, his wide grin indicating that he had regained control. Or at least so he thought.

With great difficulty Bulma managed to push back, rising from Vegeta's lap. He gave her a look that seemed almost desperate. If she kept this up she _would _have him begging for it soon.

She still had the cloth stuffed into her fist, she suddenly remembered. She let it dangle from between her fingers, making sure that Vegeta would see it. He caught on fast, much to her approval.

"Don't tell me you're planning on what I think you are," Vegeta lowered his eyebrows, sending the most piss-weak scowl she had ever seen her way. He could be so predictable at times. He was looking forward to it just as much as she was, perhaps even more.

"Okay, then I won't tell you." Bulma took the cloth and tied it around Vegeta's face, shielding his eyes and making sure that he saw nothing. Having gained full control over the situation, his lap seemed all the more inviting. She wanted to straddle him again, but she figured that it was time for him to have some fun now.

Bulma pressed a kiss to Vegeta's lips, noting the slight jump he made upon the sudden contact. She smirked; this was going to be even more fun than she imagined it would be. He was already squirming and she hadn't even started yet.

Her left hand undid the button of his pants with no trouble. She stepped away from him and pulled the simple jeans down to his ankles, leaving him clad in his boxershorts. She fabric was being tested to its limits, with Vegeta's hard-on trying to fight its way to freedom. Bulma bit her lower lip at the sight, a pink tinge flushing over her cheeks. The wetness between her legs was starting to grow, more than it already had done so far. If she didn't hurry this along she would soak her panties.

She administered one more kiss onto her lover's lips, then literally tore away his boxers. His manhood stayed erect and gave a slight bounce, amusing her. Even now he still wasn't fully hard. She would have to do something about that.

Bulma wrapped her fingers around Vegeta's member, stroking up and down in a slow but steady motion. Her husband gasped, not even able to moan his pleasure into the night. She put pressure on the head with her thumb on every other stroke, getting into the rhythm of it and enjoying seeing how Vegeta began to shudder throughout his body.

A cry finally escaped his lips, loud enough to have been heard two floors above them. Perhaps those little perverts from the cleaning crew would pick up on it and try to spy on them again. Bulma wouldn't mind; she would show those little boys what a true woman did to keep her man happy.

"What's the matter, Veggie dear," Bulma cooed. "Are you already getting weak in the knees?"

"Me, weak?" Vegeta chuckled between his panting breaths. "Never."

Bulma's eyes gleamed in mischief. "We'll see about that."

The woman sank through her knees, spreading Vegeta's legs by force. He aimed her head at her, a truly useless move. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, loving the quivers that rocked through his pelvis when she gave even the lightest of squeezes. she kept up this act for a little while, making sure to catch him by surprise with her next move.

Bulma lowered her head and took Vegeta's member into her mouth, sucking down on it hard. He moaned so loud that she could almost hear it echo down the hallway outside. Bulma bopped her head up and down, feeling Vegeta's rigidness grow even harder than it already had been. He bucked his hips and forced some of his length further down her throat, but she wasn't born yesterday. She decided to punish him by scraping her teeth along his cock before taking her mouth off it. Vegeta hissed through his teeth.

"Damn it, Bulma," He bit at her. "That actually hurt!"

HIs wife knew she had won their little battle of dominance right then and there. He had called her by her first name, which was about as rare as a solar eclipse. That, and she had managed to inflict pain on the man who could blow up the galaxy with a single sneeze. It filled her with a sense of power and invincibility.

She kept silent and went to work again, running her tongue along the shaft of Vegeta's cock. He groaned when she did so. She could see him straining himself to not just explode into her mouth. She would test his limits a bit more then.

She sucked down again, finally receiving the reaction she had been aiming for. Vegeta screamed out, truly giving his pleasure a voice for the first time that night. Bulm celebrated by pulling off and licking the head, making him squirm like she had only managed to do a few times before. Just hearing it drove her mad with desire; her panties were not thoroughly wet alright. She wanted him and she wanted him now.

It was like Vegeta had heard some kind of silent prayer. "B-Bulma," he managed to stammer. "If you don't cut that out now this will be over before it even begins."

He was right about that. Bulma let go of the rock-hard member. It made a slapping noise as if fell back against Vegeta's stomach. Bulma rid herself of her remaining clothes as quick as she could, throwing her pants across the workbench and letting her panties drop around her ankles. She moved into Vegeta's lap and kissed him, her face flushed and her skin as hot as the desert sun. Sweat dripped into her eyes but she ignored it, choosing to get lost in the taste of her husband's tongue.

With her left hand buried in Vegeta's hair, Bulma moved her other free hand for his manhood, raising her hips to position herself correctly. When she moved down again she felt her lower lips part and bliss took her over. Everything around her fell away. All she saw now was Vegeta; the way his cheeks were inflamed or how sweat rolled down his temples in rivulets. He screamed again when he entered her, not fully expecting the sensation to come so soon. Damn him, really. Even when she tried she couldn't keep her patience.

Bulma began to move, up and down, up and down. She could hardly form a sound to let Vegeta know how it made her feel. She could manage nothing but small gasps and the occasional pant. Vegeta, however, groaned and moaned as loud as his throat would let him, filling the night with vocalised pleasure.

Bulma moved against him, her soft breasts pressing against his rock-hard chest. She laid her head in his neck, breathing into his ear and whispering sweet words to him that nobody else needed to hear. She girated her hips and she felt even better, a small moan passing her lips.

Vegeta was getting anxious. He was bucking his hips again like he had done earlier, trying to at least gain some semblance of control over himself. Bulma couldn't help but let him; ecstasy had almost paralyzed her and left her without breath. Their thighs moved along each other, the sheen of sweat coating the both of them making it a particularly slippery endeavor.

Their collective weight was enough as it is, and with the intensity of their movements the chair underneath them began to groan in protest. Bulma just had enough time to ask herself if it would hold them, but then Vegeta made an unexpected move and found her neck, running his tongue down and sinking his teeth into the skin ever so softly. This time it was Bulma's turn to scream.

She couldn't take it anymore; she was nearing the point of no return. With force she yanked her face level with Vegeta's, planting a kiss on his lips like she never had before. When she pulled back she bit his lower lip, gasping through her teeth.

"Vegeta, I'm..." she could hardly form any coherent words anymore. "... so close..."

Vegeta said nothing, but the way he grunted affirmed her suspicions; he had been waiting for her to finish.

When she reached climax she screamed so hard that it hurt her throat. Tremors coursed through her body in waves, sending pleasure through every nerve in her body. Instantly her eyes grew heavy and a tiredness enveloped her, but not before the sheer joy turned everything before her eyes as black as night. Just when the most of the pleasure had faded, Vegeta growled and she could feel him spilling his essence inside of her.

They sat there for a little while, neither of them saying anything. Bulma removed the cloth from his eyes. She could see his happiness in them, mirroring the smile that he hardly ever showed with his mouth. They just needed this peace for a moment, this tranquility.

When they finally came to, they kissed. She smiled at him and he smiled in return.

A groaning noise filled the room. Two pairs of eyebrows went into the air, but realized too late where the sound came from. The chair they were sitting on collapsed under their weight, the both of them falling to floor and tumbling over each other.

They looked at each other in puzzlement for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"So what do you suppose we do now?" Vegeta questioned, the smirk not yet from his features.

'First, we get up and get dressed," Bulma said. "Then we tell those little punks outside the door to clean up the mess we made." As if to confirm this statement, they could hear the muffled whispers coming from the hallway.

Silly little bastards. Bulma really should fire them one of these days.


End file.
